Ethan (Alluring Indulgence) (4 page)

Before
Ethan said a word, Beau continued to study him, trying to figure out the range
of emotions that played across Ethan’s ruggedly handsome face. “You ready to
talk to me yet?” he asked nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest as he
leaned back against the wall and crossed his ankles, mirroring Ethan’s pose.

“Back
off, Bennett,” Ethan said faintly. “This isn’t a good idea.”

No,
maybe not. But Beau didn’t really give a shit about good ideas or not at this
point. He’d spent his entire life not knowing what he wanted, and when he
finally figured it out, he found himself up against a brick wall. A
sexy as
fucking hell
brick wall.

“Good
idea or not, you’re gonna have to talk to me eventually.”

“I
don’t have to do shit,” Ethan bit out.

When
he turned to walk away, Beau put a hand on his arm. He didn’t grab him, just
let his hand settle on Ethan’s bulging bicep.

“Relax,”
he said softly. “It’s not like I’m gonna jump you in the hallway.”

Ethan
glared at him, his eyes shooting sparks of anger. It was a given that Ethan
tried to avoid him, but he wasn’t known to lose his cool quite this easily.

It
wasn’t surprising that Ethan wanted to evade him, but Beau could sense there
was something else wrong. Letting him walk away was probably the best thing he
could do, but Beau couldn’t stand seeing Ethan quite so angry.

“Is
everything ok?”

With
what sounded like a resigned sigh, Ethan turned back to face him, and Beau tried
not to count that as a win, but considering everything they’d been putting each
other through these last couple of months, he couldn’t help himself.

“I’m
sure Zane’s already told you,” Ethan said quietly, his blue-gray eyes churning
like storm clouds.

Beau
knew his disappointment was apparent. “He mentioned Blake quit.” The fact that
it was bothering Ethan that much didn’t make Beau feel any better.

“Then
you know what’s bothering me, don’t you?” The torrent of anger seemed to have
dissipated and Ethan met his gaze head on.

“You
got another mechanic lined up?” Beau asked, aiming for subtle conversation and
ignoring the way his stomach twisted with excitement at the opportunity to talk
to Ethan. When Ethan didn’t answer right away, Beau followed up with, “Sorry,
not trying to be nosy.”

“The
hell you’re not,” Ethan alleged, breaking the eye contact and looking down at
the floor.

“Just
making conversation,” he argued without vehemence. “Why’d he quit?”

“Difference
of opinion,” Ethan muttered, and Beau could’ve sworn he heard something along
the lines of “bastard” following the statement.

That
was promising.

The
simple answer didn’t fool him either. Beau figured their differences didn’t
have a damn thing to do with how they fixed cars. He wasn’t going to mention
that to Ethan though. He knew, based on the look in Ethan’s eyes that his input
wasn’t warranted.

At
the risk of repeating himself, Beau asked, “You working to get someone else in
there to help out?”

Beau
knew that since Zane’s departure from Walker Demo, Ethan had been working
overtime just to take care of the work that piled up. With Blake, at least
Ethan had the potential for a little bit of a life outside of work. Not that
Ethan would’ve taken time off anyway. As far as Beau knew, Ethan enjoyed working
himself into the ground. That was another thing they had in common. Seemed that
keeping busy was one of the surest ways to force the demons that haunted you
away.

“Not
looking for any help,” Ethan said tersely, but didn’t walk away which was a
good sign.

Beau
found Ethan to be one of the most difficult of the brothers to start a
conversation with, but he knew it only took a few minutes before Ethan would
settle down. He was always wary, so Beau had come to expect it from him.

“Work
slow?” he asked.

“No.”
The answer was straightforward, yet it still didn’t tell Beau anything.

Figuring
he wasn’t going to get far with Ethan, he shrugged his shoulders as he turned
away. “Well, if you ever need help, just give me a shout. I’ve got some free
time these days if you need me to pitch in.”

Beau
liked the way Ethan stared back at him in disbelief. Like he had no idea what
Beau was talking about. Since Beau was a mechanic, he could’ve easily made the
offer more specific, but for some reason, he liked the idea of leaving Ethan
off kilter. The man needed something to shake him up, and he knew that chasing
after Ethan wasn’t going to be in his best interest.

Pursuing
him, letting him know he was interested… that was one thing. Chasing him… well,
that just wreaked of desperation and, well, Beau certainly wanted Ethan, but he
damn sure wasn’t desperate.

When
an opening formed between the bodies in the hall, Beau moved forward, not
looking back at Ethan. As tempting as it was to stand there and talk for as
long as he could wrangle a response out of Ethan, Beau refused to be that guy.

He
wanted Ethan, sure. But he wasn’t going to make it easy on him. They’d already
paved the road, it would just take some time to get down it. Based on what he
had witnessed, and the way Ethan was trying to punish him, Beau knew it was
just a matter of time.

Easing
up to the window, Beau glanced at the tiny little form wrapped in a little blue
blanket. The only thing visible on the precious little boy was his miniature
nose, and his small lips pursed together as he slept.

Beau
grinned. Zoey and Kaleb certainly had created a miracle.

Glancing
down at his watch, he realized the morning was rapidly passing him by, and he
truly needed to get to work. Not that his boss would particularly mind. Right
now, obviously opposite of Walker Demolition, business was a little slow at
Dillinger Automotive, and since he worked for a small, family-owned shop, he
was just extra help although he was the most tenured mechanic they had. Hell,
half the time he was the
only
mechanic they had.

However,
one of the problems with working for family businesses, if you weren’t part of
the family, you were low man on the totem pole. Not that Beau honestly cared.
He went in for a paycheck, the rest didn’t interest him in the least.

With
a quick glance behind him, Beau noticed Ethan watching him. Offering the man a
small smile, he gave himself a mental pat on the back as he walked away. If he
could figure out a way to keep playing it cool, he might just win this game.

♂♂

Two weeks later…

“You
wanted to see me?” Ethan mumbled when he stepped inside the main office of
Walker Demolition at eight thirty in the morning. Not that the cramped metal
building was much of an office, but for years his brothers had managed to make
it work.

Now
that Sawyer, Travis, and Kaleb had moved over to the fancy new resort offices,
the only things that remained in the small area were three desks, two of which
were empty. The other was occupied by Jared, Ethan’s cousin, who had
practically dropped out of the sky on New Year’s Day and landed smack dab in
the middle of Walker Demolition.

Jared
hadn’t wasted a minute, settling right into the role that Travis laid out for
him. And now, Jared had the entire office to himself. Not that he had enough
personal effects to even stake his claim on the desk he had commandeered as his
own much less the office.

The
only thing on the chipped wooden surface was a laptop computer, opened, two
plastic trays that had papers neatly stacked in them, a notebook filled with chicken
scratch on the visible page and a cup full of pens.

Simple.
Basic.

Sort
of like the guy.

Ethan
admitted, he didn’t know Jared all that well. Although the Walker family was
close, and they spent a lot of time with extended family, he hadn’t seen Jared
in years. Whether that was his own fault or Jared’s, Ethan wasn’t sure. But he
knew now was not going to be the time to have a heart to heart because… well,
because Ethan wasn’t interested in opening up to anyone. Now, or ever.

“So…”
Ethan was already uncomfortable and he hadn’t been inside for more than a
minute. For some reason, the way Jared was staring at him made him feel
extremely uneasy. The guy was leaning back in his chair, the eraser end of his
pencil tapping against his cleanly shaven chin, those blue-gray eyes that
apparently every Walker male had were staring intensely over the computer
screen at him.

“Where’s
Blake?”

Why
did Ethan get the impression Jared already knew the answer to that question?

“Hell
if I know.”

“Why
hasn’t he turned in a time card for the last two weeks?”

Damn.
Had it already been two weeks since Blake quit?

Well,
at least he knew what had tipped Jared off. Ethan was a salaried employee, but
Blake had been hourly during his short stint with the company. Considering the
guy had barely put in thirty hours a week, that was a blessing in itself.

“Did
you ask him?” Ethan challenged snidely, propping himself on the edge of Kaleb’s
old desk and staring back at Jared with the same determination he felt
broadcasting from his cousin.

This
conversation was not going to end well. He could feel it.

“How’s
the backlog coming?” Jared asked, that pencil tapping double time now, as
though all of the energy Jared was masking had to come out somewhere and his
hand had been the chosen extremity.

“I’m
getting there,” Ethan stated sternly, his arms crossed over his chest
defensively.

And
he really was getting there. He’d been working eighteen hours a day for the
last week, but he was finally catching up. He felt like shit, but he was at
least taking care of his responsibilities.

“You
need to hire some help.” Jared had that same authoritative demeanor that Travis
had. The one that made Ethan instantly want to argue.

He
had to remember this was business, not personal. And Jared was his new boss, which
meant Ethan didn’t have to see him but once a week, usually. If he could just
get through this conversation, he’d get back to the shop, and he could forget
it ever happened.

“Don’t
need help.”

“Bullshit,
Ethan,” Jared snapped, flying forward in his chair, his elbows slamming down on
the desk in front of him hard enough to rattle all those damn pens in the cup.

Ethan
didn’t fight the urge to roll his eyes. Did this guy not realize he had spent
the last ten years putting up with Travis’ mood swings and his constant need to
bark out orders?

“Hire
someone or I’m going to do it for you.”

“That’s
not your fucking job,” Ethan ground out, his face heating with his anger.

“Careful,”
Jared warned, his eyes narrowing as he glared back at him. “Hire someone or I’m
putting an ad in the paper, and I’ll get someone in there in a matter of
hours.”

Ok,
so Ethan could tolerate a lot of shit. He could put up with someone else
running the business and offering him their input. What he couldn’t tolerate
was someone telling him what the fuck he needed to do.

Pushing
to his full height, Ethan half expected Jared to stand, but he didn’t. He knew
Jared wasn’t intimidated by him like most men were, but it irked the shit out
of him that his cousin was going to sit there like a fucking pussy.

“You
run this side of things, leave the shop to me,” Ethan instructed him, venom
dripping from every word.

“I
run the whole fucking thing, in case you haven’t noticed.”

Ethan
took two steps forward and leaned over Jared’s desk. “You run this side of
things,” he reiterated more slowly. “Leave. The. Fucking. Shop. To. Me.”

With
that, Ethan turned and walked away, sucking air in through his nose and out
through his mouth in an effort to keep from hitting something.

Storming
out of the office, he slammed the door behind him before making his way over to
the Walker Demo truck he had used to come over to the office. He did not want
to hire someone else to fucking work with him. He liked being alone, and he
didn’t need the help.

Shit.

Blake
had been ideal until the jackass had to go and get all possessive on him. Why
the hell did people have to make things so damned complicated?

Ethan
jumped in the truck and peeled out of the parking lot, sending gravel flying,
pinging off the side of the metal building. It didn’t make him feel any better,
and the one minute drive back to the shop didn’t do much to cool his temper
either.

Once
he parked, Ethan took a deep breath before dropping his head on the steering
wheel. He knew he needed to do something to release some of the pressure that
was building up inside of him, but he had no idea what might possibly help.

Liar.

It
would be nice if his subconscious would fucking butt out of his business too.

♂♂

 “Hey,
Bennett!” Ralph Dillinger called from across the shop.

Beau
glanced up from under the hood to see Ralph sitting at his desk. Figured. The
guy didn’t even bother to get up when he needed to chat.

Grabbing
one of the shop towels, Beau wiped the grease off of his hands as best he could
and tossed the rag on the partially disassembled engine before he made his way
through the messy garage.

He
hated how much of a slob Ricky was. Hated it. But it wasn’t like Beau could say
anything about the pigsty he had to work near. Ricky was Ralph’s younger
brother, who happened to be Dillinger Automotive’s other mechanic. If he could
actually be considered a mechanic. The guy mainly stuck to oil changes when he
bothered to come in to work at all.

Skirting
around the tools that were strewn across the concrete floor, Beau made his way
to Ralph’s office.

“Yeah?”
He didn’t bother going inside the little room. Most of the time, Ralph got a
kick out of calling Beau over for no reason other than to give him a hard time.
Being that it was first thing Monday morning, he had hoped to be spared for at
least a few hours.

“We
need to talk.”

That
didn’t sound good. Usually Ralph greeted him with some sort of barb, or a bad
joke. This sounded serious.

“What’s
up?”

“Take
a seat,” Ralph said, blindly signaling toward one of the chairs on the opposite
side of his desk. Apparently, Ralph didn’t notice that both chairs were piled
high with either boxes or papers or both. Figuring he wouldn’t need to sit down
anyway, Beau gave him enough respect to move into the room, standing opposite
him.

“Son,”
Ralph began.

Son?
Ralph wasn’t much older than Beau, but he seemed to be under the impression he
was some sort of father figure. Beau had no idea where the guy came up with
half of what he said, or why he acted the way he did, but being the
non-confrontational sort, Beau had never let on that Ralph’s condescending
attitude bothered him. And being referred to as
son
, made him want to
both laugh and punch the guy in the face.

“I’m
sure you’ve noticed how slow things are around here.”

Yeah,
Beau had noticed. He also noticed that Ricky wasn’t even bothering to come into
work these days, so Beau was picking up all the slack. Made for at least a full
day’s work, but not much past that. If Ricky went through the trouble of coming
in, one of them would likely be sitting on their ass. Beau didn’t figure it
would be him because, of the two of them, Ricky wasn’t all that interested in
doing much more than downing a six pack.

Beau
nodded his head, waiting for whatever Ralph had to say so he could get back to
work.

When
Ralph made the effort to look up from his computer screen, Beau knew he wasn’t
going to like what his boss was about to tell him. 

“It’s
not a secret that things are slowing down,” Ralph explained, repeating his
point, his expression seemingly glum.

Beau
wanted to remind Ralph that he also noticed that Ricky wasn’t bothering to even
come into work these days. Instead, he kept his mouth shut.

“I
just don’t have enough work to warrant two mechanics right now.”

Beau
would agree. And he knew where this was going. But because he could see Ralph’s
discomfort level was the equivalent to walking on hot coals barefoot, he
decided to let the other man spell it out for him.

“Look,
Beau,” Ralph finally said after a minute of painful silence. “I’m gonna have to
let you go. When things pick back up, I’ll give you a shout. Until then, I
think Ricky can handle what little work we do have.”

Beau
glanced out into the shop, pretending to be looking for Ricky, and then back to
Ralph. Yeah, he’d like to see how well that was going to work out for them.

“I
know what you’re thinkin’,” Ralph went on to say.

Doubtful.
“Is that right?” Beau asked, the words breaking free before he could stop them.
Damn it.

Ralph’s
eyes widened and he leaned back in his chair, propping his hands on his
protruding belly, obviously gearing up for a confrontation. When Ralph cleared
his throat, Beau took a deep breath.

It
wasn’t like he didn’t know this day would come. When business was slow, there
wasn’t much anyone could do. And even if Beau had enough work to put in forty
or more hours a week, that didn’t mean a thing when it came down to family
loyalty.

“I
need Ricky to come in to work. He’s not coming in because he says there isn’t
enough for him to do. He mentioned that you take all the work, and he doesn’t
want to cause a scene.”

Beau
grinned to himself. That was such fucking bullshit, but it didn’t surprise him
that Ralph believed it. Or was pretending to at least. Ricky didn’t come in to
work because he spent his nights at Moonshiners getting drunk. Hell, half the
time when he did come into work the next day, he’d still be drunk.

“Sorry,
Beau,” Ralph finally said with a sigh.

Beau
wanted to believe that Ralph really was sorry, but something felt off about
this whole thing. He had been working for Dillinger Automotive since he
graduated from high school. Granted, Dillinger’s was a family owned business,
and their loyalties were clearly to family. He understood that. But, they’d
been slow for a while now. And business always seemed to pick back up. So why
were they doing this now?

That
was a question that would go unspoken because Beau didn’t really care to hear
the answer. A sound in the shop had Beau glancing through the small window
behind Ralph’s head. There was Ricky. When the guy went straight for Beau’s
toolbox, he knew there was going to be a problem.

“When
will you have my last paycheck ready?” Beau asked as he eased his way toward
the door, keeping an eye on Ricky.

“Friday,”
Ralph said, turning to see what had caught Beau’s attention.

“I’ll
be by Friday morning. Make sure it’s ready for me.”

With
that, Beau walked out of the mess Ralph considered an office and directly to
his work bay.

“I
think that’s mine,” Beau said simply, snatching his diagnostic scanner right
out of Ricky’s hand. Grabbing the case that housed the tool when he wasn’t
using it, Beau slid it inside before latching it closed.

“Ricky!”
Ralph called, his voice echoing through the shop. “Get your ass in here.”